A Demons Lament
by WayfaringAngel
Summary: Cain contemplates making the ultimate decision; his soul for power.


_It is never easy to enter into Cain's head and to do so I did a little research on the criminally insane. One thing most Psychiatrists agree on is that the deeper into the mouth of insanity an individual gets the more disjointed their emotions and thoughts become. I tried to convey this with Cain's fluctuating thoughts. Hope you enjoy..._

_Disclaimer stands; I make no claim to Trinity Blood and it's characters. All are owned by Sunao Yoshida and partners. This is for entertainment purposes only!_

_**A Demons Lament**_

_**The Ark**_

_**May 2184**_

Silence. Someone once said it was golden, but he knew better, it was…black. Black as night, behind closed eyes; black as death, the eternal sleep; and black as his godforsaken hangover, that finally, finally, silenced the voices in his head. It had been quite a long time since he had had his mind to himself and he relished the quiet, even if he did have to experience the nausea that had his stomach threatening to spew out black blood.

Apathetically he rested his chin on his arm and stared through blood-shot eyes at the wine bottles scattered about him. With infinite care, he reached forward and began to spin one around slowly. The flickering light, playing on its surface, distracted him for a time, but tiring of the game he lifted his head from the table and sat up with a loud groan. Looking at the ceiling, he wondered how long these unpleasant sensations would last; for he truly could not remember the last time he had been inebriated. He supposed he could reactivate the Crusniks to stop his misery, but then, that would destroy the whole idea of deactivating them. He had wanted to be just a man for a while, to find a semblance of peace in blessed silence, and to drink himself into oblivion. Regrettably, he never liked to do the latter alone, and that turned one desire to another…

Running a hand down his face, he lolled his head to the side staring at the cascade of red that spilled down the side of his bed and smiled cynically. It seemed he had a fetish for redheads; unfortunately, for them, they never fared well under his care. Not Lilith, whom he desired nothing more than to slaughter, not his fiancé, who left him, in fear of her life, and certainly not this poor waif, who suffered and died, under his unholy lust. Leaning forward he lifted a lock of the woman's hair and let it sift through his fingers. It was soft, silky, and flowed to the floor just as her blood had flowed down his throat.

Pulling his robe tighter, he made his way to his bed and stood over the body. She would never have been called beautiful, but she had possessed a charm all her own with eyes the most vibrant shade of violet he had ever seen. Those eyes now held a look of sad acceptance as though she had resigned herself to her fate. With uncharacteristic tenderness, he reached down closing them forever and covered her body with the bed sheet. Regret, a feeling he had long forgotten, touched his heart. It was not as if he was sad that she was dead, quite the contrary; her death assured his life. It was the randomness of it all; chance encounters and reckless acts that consigned a life to irrevocable…ruin. Just like what had happened to him and that was the crux of one dilemma.

It was of course all Abel's fault. If his brother had not issued a challenge by accusing him of losing all understanding of human nature, he would not be in this predicament. As it was the very idea that the Crusnik controlled him rankled and pricked at his ego. However, his brother was not far off, for every time he gave over to the parasites he lost a little of his soul. Oh, he would never loose his sense of self. Never that, for the Crusniks needed him sentient; but all the gentler emotions that would interfere with their mutual destructive tendencies they discarded.

Running a hand through long golden hair, he lay down upon the bed and stared once more at the ceiling frowning. He could not think, not with the body lying beside him, so he turned toward it glaring. He had always been a fastidious man; now he was a fastidious…monster and he resented the fact that his now perfect body still required certain…needs_. _Dispassionately he reached out and pushed the body from his bed thus solving one problem. He would leave it for his brother to clean up; Abel always concealed his more unsavory habits. Besides, it would serve him right; it was after all, their quarrel, which caused the Crusniks to become more insistent.

Flopping over on this stomach, he buried his head under the pillows. He was tired, so very tired; tired of the constant struggle with his siblings, tired of the puling Terran, tired of the superior airs of the Methuselah, and so damned tired of the insidious whisperings in his head. All he wanted to do was consign them all to Hell._ That _desire was the root of his true dilemma. However, before he had deactivated the Nanomachine, they had offered up a solution; completely fuse with them. Granted it was the same temptation they always offered up, but this time it had merit; all he had to do was leave behind his humanity.

"Nothing comes for free." He barked aloud and then laughed until he cried.

Would it be worth it? They offered an unparalleled partnership, immortality and unrivaled power for his soul. With them, he could put everyone in their place and achieve his wildest apocalyptic dreams. He could reshape the world according to his wishes or grind it into dust. Abel...he was the only wrinkle to this vision; he did not wish to leave his twin. Yet, he wondered if he fused completely with the Crusnik, would he even care about his brother? With all his pent up rage, Abel was ripe for the picking, so assuming he did still care, all he had to do was destroy any outside influences. Then he would have a chance of convincing Abel to join him in ruling this pathetic world.

Choices and reckless acts, it all came down to these decisions; just like Seth's. If she had not implanted the Nanomachine within him, he would have died a peaceful man. Instead, here he lay contemplating another reckless action and he wondered what his decision would ultimately be…


End file.
